The following was forwarded on to the Bulletin after being posted
anonymously to alt.sex.intergen, a news group on the Internet that
deals with intergenerational sex.

Hello,

The following is a true story that happened to me. I decided to
share my story in the hopes that people will see how unfair the system
is to "the victim."

When I was about 14, I was in a really great Boy Scout troop and was
having the time of my life. I had finally worked my way "up the
ranks" and was the number-two guy in the troop. The leader of the
troop, Gary, became my best friend. My parents had divorced a few
years earlier (and my dad almost never came to see me), so Gary and I
became really close. We spent quite a bit of time together both
with the troop and alone.

Well, on one of our camping trips, we ended up sleeping next to each
other (one of the perks of leadership was sleeping in the "cool"
tent). Gary leaned over and kissed me. Not just a peck, but
a full-on kiss. I kissed back. He unzipped my sleeping bag
and started to touch my penis through my sweat pants. At this
point, I became very nervous. This was my first sexual experience
with another person and I was also worried about the other guys hearing
something. I asked Gary to stop and he did.

Several weeks later, we had a sleep-over at his apartment after a night
of bowling and pizza and I was offered the floor in his bedroom.
I accepted. Gary did not make any move toward me and just got
into bed, shut off the light, and said good-night. I asked him if
he would continue where he left off on the camp out. He climbed
out of bed and joined me on the floor. We both took off our
clothes and had a night of passion. He went down on me and I had
my first orgasm at the hands of another. He also tried to have
anal sex with me (at my suggestion), but I was really tight and he
didn't want to hurt me. I realized then that I loved him-
emotionally and physically.

The next thing, however, my emotions went haywire. I realized
that I was probably gay. I didn't really know what to do. I
was afraid to go to my friends for fear of being totally outcast and I
knew my mom would freak out, so I just stewed. Gary and I were
still close, but never had another sexual encounter. This agony
went on for several months.

Finally, after my falling grades and depression finally alerted my
mother to a problem (which she thought was drug abuse), I was dragged
to a counselor. I thought that here was my salvation! The
counselor told me that I could say anything in confidence. I
could finally get help in sorting out all of emotions.

The very first session I spilled my guts. I told the whole lurid
story and asked for answers. But instead of help, I was told that
she had a legal obligation to report the incident to the
authorities. She said I could call them from her office right
then or she would. So I called.

The rest of the session, she continued to tell me how "bad" the things
were that I had done with Gary and that it wasn't my fault. He
had used me. She totally disregarded my feelings and made me feel
like I was some kind of pervert.

That night, I cried my eyes out. I had betrayed the man I
loved. I decided not to go any further and to not help the
authorities.

The next day, two police officers came to where I was working that
summer at a Boy Scout day camp and hauled me back to the station
against my will. Even though they were in plain clothes, all of
my friends and co-workers saw them flash their badges around.
(They were legally obligated to get a statement within 24 hours of the
initial report or they could not act on my "tip.") They grilled me for
six hours. They would not let me call my parents. They
totally harassed me until I told them everything. Eventually,
with their harassment and the constant barrage of crap from the
counselor, I started to believe their line. Sex with two males
was bad. Gary was pervert that needed to be locked up. I
could help them with that.

Over the course of the next few months, they "convinced" me to drag all
of my friends down to the station to also give statements. Well,
surprise, another kid was also a "victim.” Mid-way through all
this crap I told my mother I was not going to attend any more
counseling. I was not about to spend my time with a woman who was
just going to degrade all of my emotions. I also lost all of my
best friends and (once the parents of all of the Boy Scouts got wind of
the situation) lost my last refuge when the troop was disbanded.

The police finally shipped me over the Assistant DA. This woman
seemed nice. Told me that she was there to help. Finally, I
thought, now I get some help. But what she really wanted was a
promotion. She railroaded me into testifying against Gary and
making me feel like the lowest form of life on the earth- not only a
scum pervert, but also a guy who ratted out all of my friends and a man
I loved.

Gary was convicted and sentenced to three months in county jail and one
year probation.

After this whole experience, I buried my sexuality. I had a few
relation- ships with girls, but they were almost totally
disastrous. Finally, after 12 years and a failed marriage, I am
finally coping. I have "come out" and realized that I am
bisexual. I also truly regret what I did (indirectly) to Gary and
that I had not explored more with him physically. There is a big
hole in my life now and, to make amends, I have tried to find
Gary. I even hired a locator service, but it seems that he left
the country. (I know he has family in Europe.) I just want to
tell him "I'm sorry" for all that happened and "Thank you" for showing
a young budding man the pleasures of love, physical and emotional.

The moral of the story is this: I feel like the only real crime in this
was the way I was treated by the authorities. I was told that
everything in the counseling session was confidential, which was not
true. I was told that what I was feeling was "bad," which was not
true. I was told over and over by people in authority that they
were there to help, which was not true. I have suffered through
12 years of pain before I finally saw the light and I know it is
because of the way I was treated, not by Gary, but by the people that
were legally supposed to protect and care for me.

In my book, Gary did nothing wrong. All of the sexual relations
that took place did so at my insistence (he even repeatedly made sure I
was still willing to go ahead). Some people would say that I was
not mature to make decisions about sex at that age. To them I
say: bullshit! I was not a stupid child. The only thing I
really lacked was information and only because the "health" class
section on sexuality was basically of the "married, lights out, eyes
closed, in the missionary position, only if you want babies" type.

I was in control the whole time. The only reason I was unsure
after the second time was because I didn't know how to handle gay
emotional love and didn't know where to turn (since it was still
totally unacceptable back then).

What really worries me these days is the fact that, although the gay
lifestyle is accepted (for the most part), the victimization of young
gays still continues. For once in the pedophile argument, there
needs to be the say of the real people involved- the young people who
are not stupid, but are caring, loving, sensitive people with feelings
who can make decisions for themselves.